The Official Fanfiction University of Azeroth
by KittyNoodlesPPC
Summary: Yes, at long last, someone has created an OFU for the Warcraft-verse! Sign-ups start today, so hurry up and apply before the staff decides they don't need the migraines!
1. Enter Fanbrats

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own the characters, places, races, factions, stories, or merchandise associated with _World of Warcraft. _I do not own any part of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum (which may make an appearance in later chapters) save for Agent Caroline Moor, Veralyn Amberwing, Gilbert Beckett, Fiona Darcy, Firebrand the dragonhawk, brownkit the mini-monster, and Flutteryshy the mini-Discord. I do not own the initial idea behind OFUs. The only thing I own is OFUA and the original characters of my creation (Miss Kitty, Jessie Lovette and Tanya Burrell). All other original characters in this fic belong to their respective creators.

_World of Warcraft _belongs to Blizzard Entertainment. The Protectors of the Plot Continuum owes its existence and popularity to Jay and Acacia. The idea of creating OFUs belongs to Miss Cam. The boredom resultant of all this legal babble belongs to all of us, so let's get this show on the road.

* * *

The small town of Ukiah was eerily quiet at four in the morning, even for a town boasting only a little more than sixteen thousand people (including those living just beyond the edges of the town). Only two or three people were still up and driving the roads, and these were the absolute last remnants of the few parties that had run since sundown the previous day. Everyone else was sleeping as peacefully as anyone ever did in the slowly-dying town, their minds subconsciously dreading waking up to another rainy, blisteringly cold morning.

That is to say... everyone except Jessie Lovette.

The fair-haired fifteen-year-old was still awake, and sat cross-legged on her bed with her laptop before her, ignorant of the school day ahead as she diligently typed the last few paragraphs of her latest _World of Warcraft_ fanfiction. She had started the piece somewhere around six hours before, after having played another twenty whole minutes of the game on her favorite character: the level fourteen human paladin Ronwyn. (Sure, there were the odd jabs here and there from the few friends of hers that knew she played _Warcraft_, and sure, all of them had to do with the fact that Ronwyn was an incredibly handsome male character with a girly-sounding name and played by a teenage girl, but they just didn't understand what an investigative opportunity it was to pretend to be a guy in a game dominated by men. Jessie was learning valuable information about how the opposite sex ticked – and besides, Ronwyn was just so... _nummy_!)

It had taken a lot of hard work, and Jessie had had to sneak into the kitchen once or twice for Red Bulls so she could stay awake long enough to finish her fic – not to mention the strain on her poor eyes from squinting at a computer screen for so long! – but looking at the almost-finished project, she knew the effort had been worth it.

"_Ronwyn," the ocean-haired lass **(A/N: Eee, that sounds so...old-timey!) **breathed, reaching up to run her slender fingers through his soft golden-colored locks. "Ronwyn, oh it really is you..."_

"_It is," the paladin responded huskily. Then without a word he swept her up into his arms and kissed her passionately, vowing as he did so to never let his precious golden angle go again._

Jessie knew this story was sure to be a hit. Her other _Warcraft _fic – which was also about Ronwyn – had already been favorited thirteen times, and okay, there were a few jerks who had flamed her story for being 'boring' and 'completely unoriginal', but Jessie was pretty sure those were just some of her classmates from junior high, still trying to make her feel bad by stalking her fanfiction accounts (they'd even found her own _Warcraft_ fansite!) and bashing her awesome writing skills.

A slightly chilly breeze stirred the air in Jessie's bedroom, causing goosebumps to appear on her arms as the girl cursed her decision to wear her Linkin Park t-shirt and the thinnest pair of sweatpants she owned for pajamas. Winters in Ukiah _sucked._

"Oh, by the Light, not _another _romance story!"

Jessie squealed and looked up to see a tall figure with glowing green eyes and dressed in fine, scarlet-colored robes glaring down at her as though she stank of dog poop. He had long, blue-black hair swept back in a ponytail, pale skin, and held in one hand a staff that seemed to have been fashioned from pure gold (except that was stupid, or at least Jessie was pretty sure it was. Wouldn't gold be too soft to be used to make a staff?) Most of the man's face was covered with a red bandana, but his ears and eyebrows stood out like... like...

_Whiskers?_ Jessie bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the man's ridiculously long ear tips and eyebrows, but she couldn't quite keep the grin from pulling at the corners of her lips. The man saw it and immediately started outright scowling at her.

"What's so funny, human?" His voice, though relatively cultured, dripped with menace. "Have you never seen a sin'dorei before?"

"Sinder-what?" Jessie asked. Mentally, she went through all the races of the Horde and Alliance, trying to remember if any race had called themselves 'cinderfoots' or whatever this guy had said. She was pretty sure none of them had, but he _did _look a little bit like...

"Oh, you mean blood elves?" Jessie asked brightly. "Sure, I've seen a few here and there. Kind of a bunch of pansies, though – more concerned about their looks than fighting, right?" she added with a laugh.

The man narrowed his eyes and did not laugh with her. In fact, had the bandana not been there to obscure the lower half of his face, Jessie would have seen what a blood elf looks like when he snarls.

"Probably isn't wise to taunt the mage, dear," another voice sounded from behind the blood elf. Jessie leaned to the side a bit to get a good look at the speaker, who turned out to be another man – this one a human with short hair and a glorious beard and mustache, all a color somewhere between brown and red, leaning towards red. He wore the silver-and-blue armor and Alliance tabard Jessie immediately recognized as belonging to a guard of Stormwind City, but exactly who this man or his companion were, Jessie had no clue.

The human sighed, then took a roll of parchment from his belt, opened it, and said, "Jessie Lovette, also known as Ronwyns_ladie and Amiryx the..." He stopped, raised an eyebrow, and finished, "...'Lightsender'?"

"Yes?" Jessie answered, wondering how in the world he had found out about her fanfiction penname _and _her friend's level seventy-three character (borrowed as Ronwyn's night elf lover, of course).

"Well of course she is!" the blood elf sniffed. "Just look at this drivel!" And he waved an angry hand at Jessie's laptop.

"Okay, I think I've been awake a bit too long," Jessie muttered, rubbing her eyes and turning back to her laptop. "Just let me get this posted, and—" The teenager broke off in a squeal as her hands were suddenly encased in blocks of ice that were several shades bluer than any ice she had ever seen. Now several pounds heavier each, her hands fell into her lap with what she was sure was enough force to give her bruises.

"I think not!" the blood elf snapped, sounding as though he was personally offended that she was still trying to work on her fic. "Your... _writing_ (for lack of a better word) is exactly why we are here, you foolish girl!"

"Did you need to freeze the girl's hands?" the human muttered, casting the blood elf an unfriendly look before turning to take in the rest of the bedroom.

"What do you mean, my writing's why you're here?" Jessie demanded. She lifted her hands a bit off her lap and added, "And what did you do to my hands? Whatever it was, undo it!"

"And allow you to _publish _that nonsense?" The blood elf shook his head in disbelief. "No, your work has done enough damage to our world as it is. The orcs you set that so-called paladin upon are _still _recovering—"

"Ha!" Jessie laughed triumphantly. "All he did was hit 'em with a sword! You're telling me they're still laid up in bed for a few little cuts?"

"—from the extreme confusion they still suffer as a result of being 'swinged at' – your words, dear," the blood elf added off-handedly, "– by a deranged human wielding low-level weaponry and the battle cry, 'For the glorious Lightof the Sun'."

The human snorted and raised an eyebrow at Jessie again. "You can't be serious."

"It's a cool battle cry!" Jessie defended herself angrily. "What's the big idea? I mean, WoW is—"

"Wow?" both intruders chorused.

"_World of Warcraft,_" Jessie sighed. Jeez, didn't these guys know _anything?_ "It's an MMORPG—"

"Do you even know what that stands for?" the blood elf asked sardonically.

"Well, no, but that's not the point!" Jessie snapped, glaring at the man.

"Oh, then _do _enlighten us," the blood elf invited with a wide, sweeping gesture of his arms. "I would _love _to hear your excuses."

"The _point _is, it's a roleplaying game _anyway_. Everyone's character has a backstory, and some of the ones I've seen have horrible spelling and grammar. Mine only has a couple of slips – and I mean, come on! I write these things a day at a time! I don't have time to go over them and look for every little mistake! And besides, it's fan_fiction_," she emphasized. "That means it's just something I wrote _as a fan. _It's not _real, _so I can have my characters do and say whatever I want them to!"

"Oh, so I suppose you think if this 'Ronwyn' were to attack and slay Garrosh Hellscream, it would have no effect at all on our world's reality." The blood elf crossed his arms scornfully.

"Why should it?" Jessie asked. "It's fiction! Everyone knows what happens is totally imagination! That ugly brute wouldn't _actually_ die in the game, just in the story!"

"And how much effort do you think it takes on the part of the Bronze Dragonflight to ensure that you're correct in that assumption?"

"Why are your walls so... bright?" the human asked, piping up again for the first time in a few minutes. "Bright yellow, with one bright red wall behind you? How do you sleep?"

"Do you have any idea how much money it cost to rebuild the outpost your creation attacked?" the blood elf demanded, talking over the human as though he hadn't spoken. "Not to mention the time and resources the rebuilding took, or the embarrassment of having to admit a fully-operational Horde outpost was wiped out by a single, barely-coherent human in simple armor and lacking the fighting skills of a two-year-old..."

"What my companion is trying to explain, miss," the human stepped in, cutting off the blood elf's rant, "is that your stories have a more powerful effect on our world than you seem to think. Which is why you will need to re-earn your fanfiction writer's license."

"Fanfiction wri– I don't need a license to write fanfiction!" Jessie argued indignantly. She turned and tried to hit the Enter key on her keyboard, only to remember at the last second that her hands were still frozen in blocks of ice. "Well... I'll just wait until you leave and this stupid ice melts, and then I'll post it anyway!"

"I think you'll find that won't work," the human said as he took another roll of parchment from his belt and placed it on top of Jessie's icicle hands. "Once you do, you're welcome to try to re-earn your license by attending our university."

"University?" Jessie echoed. "What university?"

"The Official Fanfiction University of Azeroth," the blood elf explained impatiently. "Or the O-F-U-A, if you prefer."

"You'll be given the chance to study with us for one year – and that's twelve months, miss, not the nine your typical school year tends to run," the human added. "While you're there, you'll learn everything a decent fanwriter needs to know about the world we live in and the people who inhabit it. If you pass your classes at the university, your fanfiction writer's license will be reinstated. If you fail—"

"—Then your license will be revoked until next year, at which point you will be given another opportunity to earn it back," the blood elf finished. Then, after a pointed look from the human, he sighed and waved his hand reluctantly, which somehow had the effect of causing the ice around Jessie's hands to vanish without so much as... well, okay, there were a _few _drops of water, but not so much that it looked like the ice had been flash-melted.

Jessie flexed her hands a bit, surprised they weren't totally numb yet, and then opened the parchment the human had given her. It turned out to be an application sheet – or a questionnaire. Figuring she ought to humor her hallucinations a bit, Jessie grabbed a pen from off her headboard and went to work filling the thing out.

"Name," she read. "Hmm..."

"Why not 'Ronwyn'?" the blood elf suggested snidely. "It certainly sounds feminine enough."

"Why does everyone say that?" Jessie grumbled as she wrote down _Jessira the Wordsmith._

"She knows what a wordsmith is," the human groaned. "She writes this terribly and somehow uses _wordsmith _correctly..."

"Gend– well, obviously I'm _female_!" Jessie snapped, scrabbling her answer in. "Race? Uhm, human, I guess..."

"Thank the Light for small favors," the blood elf snorted.

"Hair... well, dusty blonde, and I mean, obviously my eyes are greyish..." Jessie looked up with a frown. "Say, why are we being asked for our hair- and eye colors? Won't those stay the same?"

"It's just to be thorough," the human assured her smoothly. Jessie shrugged and went back to her application form.

"Skin or fur? Well, skin, and it's kinda peachy-tannish-olive?" Jessie shrugged and put down 'lightly-colored'. "Other distinguishing physical traits... Uh, do pierced ears count?"

"If you want," the human answered with a nod.

"Allegiance... Alliance, duh..." Jessie frowned, then shrugged and shook her head as she moved on to the next question. "Class... That's easy! Paladin!"

Both men made choking noises, but neither said anything in response as the teenager continued to fill out the rest of her form.

"I can skip that one, it's not in reference to my class... Wow, that's a lot of professions! Uhm... Let's do blacksmithing and mining. Then I can forge my own armor and weapons!"

"And they will invariably turn out in shades of blindingly bright blue and gold," the blood elf muttered.

"Secondary professions... isn't archeology a secondary profession, too?" Jessie asked.

"By the Light, she knows all four of the secondary professions, too," the blood elf sighed, shielding his eyes with a hand as his companion answered, "That will be offered to students who pass their first semester. The organizer said it was bad enough we had to include mining in the list of offered primary professions – something about not wanting a bunch of idiot fanbrats running around with pickaxes any more than they absolutely have to."

Jessie frowned, then shrugged and circled all of the other three professions (cooking, fishing, and first aid). "Let's see... 'Have you ever written a fanfiction for _World of Warcraft? _Uhm, obviously! I thought you said that's why you're here to begin with?"

"It's for the sake of thoroughness," the human repeated, sounding as though his patience was starting to run thin.

"Right. 'Have you ever written a canon/canon _Warcraft _pairing?' No. 'Have you ever written a canon/OC pairing?' Yes. 'Have you ever written a Mary Sue or Marty Stu?' Oh, come on, not you guys, too! No, obviously not! Hello, Ronwyn has anger issues through the roof, and don't get me _started _on Amiryx's depression and lack of self-esteem! Obviously they aren't Sues! Sheesh..."

Both men rolled their eyes mutely; the blood elf started rubbing his temples as though he was suffering the beginnings of a powerful migraine.

"Favorite 'good' characters? Uhm... Well, I guess I'd have to say any human character, really. Wait, who're the Knights of the Ebon Blade? And shouldn't that be 'Ebony' Blade?"

The human man twitched and said, "No, it should not." Beside him the blood elf shuddered and mumbled something about 'vampire whores'.

"Okay, favorite bad characters... Duh, anyone in the Horde!" Jessie looked up again to ask, "Wait, I thought the Horde are all bad guys? So why are they listed as _good _guys?"

"You may never live to find out, if you don't hurry up and finish filling out that form," the blood elf growled. It sounded like he might be gritting his teeth, but due to the bandana mask, Jessie couldn't really be sure. She jotted down 'the Horde' and moved on to the next question.

"Favorite neutral characters? Uhm... wait, aren't the dragons bad guys, too?" She shrugged and answered 'no one really comes to mind – I mean, everyone's got a side, right?' "And... lust objects? Really? Well, it should be pretty obvious: Ronwyn!"

"She may be one of the few who survives," the human man murmured to his companion. The blood elf snorted and rolled his eyes.

"What's this?" Jessie squinted, then groaned and complained, "A waiver? Really? I see enough of these on job application forms, and they're all the same thing: I agree to a drug test, I agree to an investigation into my legal background, I understand this is an equal-opportunity employment opportunity, yadda yadda yadda."

"If you're so certain about that, why don't you just sign your name and be done with it?" the blood elf ground out, very nearly at the end of his patience.

"Fine. Sheesh, and I was just starting to think this'd be fun, too... oh, well." Jessie signed her name with a flourish, then looked and and started to ask, "Now can I please go to sleep?"

"Of course," the human man said, taking the parchment from her with an all-too-pleased smile. "I'd advise you to pack some clothes, though. We won't bother outfitting everyone simply because you'll be studying with us, after all."

Before Jessie could answer that, the two men vanished, leaving her completely alone without a single trace of their presence to reassure her that she had not been hallucinating.

For a moment she considered posting her story before finally laying herself down to sleep, but something compelled her to shut her laptop and go over to her dresser, where she took out every pair of jeans (and jean shorts) she owned, as well as seven short-sleeved shirts and four sweaters. She figured she could test the hallucination theory this way: if her mother came into her room in about three hours and asked her why her clothes were in a neat little pile on her bed instead of in her dresser, then Jessie would probably need to stop staying up until four in the morning to write fanfictions. It'd take several hours out of her fanfiction writing time (seriously, between school, homework, TV, and _Warcraft_, she had like, _no time _to write), but at least she would no longer hallucinate about blood elves and Stormwind guards telling her that her fanfictions were inferior.

Her last coherent thought as she drifted off to sleep was that she should create a Horde character – maybe a blood elf – just so she would have a character with the name Jessira.

-OFUA-

Modesto was not quiet at any time of the day or night; being several times larger than Ukiah in both size and population, the city's roads were always buzzing with the movement of people going to work or school or home; heading off to dates or get-togethers; rushing to job interviews or the college's open-campus days; or simply enjoying a drive throughout the bustling, generally friendly city.

At six in the morning, the traffic was heavy with drivers still half-asleep as they made their way to wherever they would spend the good majority of their days; fortunately the city was not populated by people who liked to lay on their horns, so while the sounds of so many cars on the road did combine into a loud rushing sound like heavy wind, at least those who were still asleep were not aroused and then kept awake before they were ready to move around by a constant blaring of horns and sirens.

Not that any of this mattered to twenty-one-year-old Tanya Burrell, of course. She had been up since five, playing her level seventy-five troll druid, An'zeti (although since the stupid game wouldn't let her use apostrophes in her screen name, in-game her character was known as 'Anzeti', which looked stupid, but was what she was stuck with). 'Anzeti' had been her main toon since she'd started playing during the _Burning Legion _expansion, and had become something of a big name on her RP server, especially among her guildmates, all of whom she had roleplayed with at least once or twice already. Some of her roleplays had gone so well that she had, with the permission of everyone involved, even gone so far as to write them down as best she could remember and then render them in fanfiction format later on.

Some of the members of her guild – mostly those she preferred to avoid – teased her that writing fanfiction about a roleplay character from _Warcraft_ was just a little on the girly side. Tanya secretly agreed; really, it was a guilty pleasure on the same level as clothes shopping, at least as far as she was concerned. Still, aside from the 'Anzeti' she played in-game, Tanya also had what she liked to think of as the _real _An'zeti, which she played even more religiously on a small roleplay forum. _That _An'zeti needed her own story rather than levels, gear and gold, so fanfiction writing was something of a necessity – a necessity that had quickly become as addictive as the game itself.

She'd already written three fanfictions for An'zeti so far: One chronicling her early life as a young troll on the Echo Isles, another chronicling her first real love (a tauren named Muulg), and the last a series of one- or two-shots detailing several late-night... _excursions_... with men of varying races following the death of Muulg during a battle to claim the Arathi Basin. They'd all had mostly encouraging reviews – save for a few complaints that An'zeti had turned into a slut who'd sleep with anything that had a pulse, the Horde and her own people be damned (Tanya still didn't understand these comments; what difference did it really make if a troll slept with one human and a night elf or three?) – so Tanya felt pretty confident that this one, especially since she planned to use it as a springboard for the next 'chapter' of her roleplaying. The story would center around An'zeti's eventual romance with a night elf by the name of Kyroth, and yeah, there would probably be some people who complained... but Tanya was more interested to see who would offer to roleplay Kyroth once the story was finished.

She had only managed to type, _It was a gloomy dawning in the wastelands north of the kingdom of Quelthalas, _when her hands were frozen inside individual blocks of bright blue ice, slammed onto- and then skittered off her keyboard, and landed with a jolt in her lap, nearly toppling her out of her seat.

"What the hell?" Tanya snapped, dragging her frozen hands up to inspect them (as though doing so would magically make the ice disappear). "What is this stuff?"

"Ice, you little twit," a man's voice growled behind her. One thin-fingered but definitely masculine hand slapped an unrolled parchment form in front of her as the voice continued, "If you'd like to have your hands unfrozen, you'll agree to fill this out as soon as may be."

"Rommath, you know we aren't allowed to blackmail them into it," a coarser voice sighed.

"As _Grand Magister, _I refuse to take orders from anyone other than the Regent Lord – which you are not!" Nonetheless the ice was removed, falling away into a few dribbles of water with a sound like an angry snake.

Tanya turned to see two men – one of whom she could have identified as Grand Magister Rommath even if he hadn't been called by name – standing behind her, looking down at her as though she had just gotten caught wearing granny panties on her head while dancing on a tabletop.

The room was quiet for exactly as long as it took Tanya to breathe in, and then she broke the silence by snickering uncontrollably.

"Okay, this is the craziest energy drink-induced dream I have ever had in my life," she finally managed to get out. "What's next? Is the Easter Bunny gonna pop out of my closet and make me Queen of the Oompa Loompas?"

"I have no idea what any of that means," the human man said after a moment of stunned silence, "but I'm sure the answer is no. This is not a dream—"

"More of a nightmare for all involved parties," Rommath grumbled. Then, in a clearer voice, he explained, "Unfortunately for all of us, this is in fact very real. We are here because your dreadful work has caused several of our trollish- and night elven staff members to suffer hemorrhages of the brain. Not to mention the fit of rather unsettling laughter it provoked from our coordinators, nor the resultant terror several of our more spineless staff members suffered as a result of that cackling—"

"So you're here because my writing was so unbelievably original that several people were injured just by reading it?" Tanya asked, figuring there was a pretty slim chance that Rommath would do anything worse than melt her face for the interruption. Besides, she was still thoroughly convinced she'd passed out on her keyboard and was now suffering the effects of a sugar high.

Rommath blinked. And blinked a few more times. And scowled while blinking yet a few _more _times.

Just as the blood elf's hands began to glow with the beginnings of what would probably have been a very painful face-melting spell, the human man stepped in and said, "No, actually, we're here because that's how _terrible _your writing is. Because you seem unable to comprehend the need to _research _the different races your... character... has recently become involved with—"

"Oh, _please_," Tanya laughed. "You aren't seriously telling me I'm in _trouble _for writing a few sex scenes here and there? What, are the gods of fanfiction too prudish to appreciate a good bit of smut here and there?"

"The smut isn't the problem," Rommath snarled. "Having a night elf and a troll willingly bed each other _is_. As such," he continued before Tanya could argue, "your fanfiction writer's license has been revoked until such a time as you pass one full year of classes at the Official Fanfiction University of Azeroth – and I do mean _pass_, not, 'skim neatly by on a low-C average'."

"Is that what this thing is?" Tanya asked, turning to pick up the form Rommath had slapped in front of her earlier. "Some kinda sign-up sheet or something?"

"That's exactly what it is," the human said, sounding relieved that the conversation was progressing so quickly. "Simply fill that out, and by dawn you'll find yourself standing in the O-F-U-A with somewhere around five hundred or so of your peers."

"Only five hundred?" Tanya asked as she quickly filled the form out. _Obviously I'll sign up as a troll, and I'll look exactly like An'zeti does, I mean, come on..._

About halfway down the form she looked up, wrinkled her nose, and asked, "Why is _Alliance _even on the form? Are there seriously people who'd want to join? I mean, everyone who plays the faction in-game is either an idiot thirteen-year-old who can't tell a sword from a mace or a bored old man with nothing better to do than dick around in the Plaguelands. All the decent, loyal players go for the Horde, right?"

Rommath's mask twitched in a way that made Tanya pretty sure he was smirking; beside him, the human man – whom Tanya now vaguely recognized from her newbie days as a fumbling Alliance player (wasn't his name Mark, or something like that?) – ground his teeth and twisted his face into what was most certainly _not _a smile, despite the number of teeth he bared in doing so.

"What's his problem?" Tanya asked as she went back to filling out her sign-up form. "Who _is _he, for that matter?"

"I am General Marcus Jonathan." the man sounded like he was speaking through his teeth, but Tanya was too busy writing in that she also knew archeology to really take much notice (even the _university_ didn't know the basics. How disappointing.)

"That's cool," the woman mumbled as she scribbled a few 'suggestions' in the margins for the coordinators... if there even _were _any. "Never seen you around before, so I figured I should probably ask."

"At least she's showing a tendency towards investigation," Rommath murmured charitably. "She may not spend quite as much time in the dungeons as some of her peers."

Marcus snorted and opted not to respond to this as Tanya finally rolled her form back up and handed it to Rommath as though she'd just done the two men a huge favor. To his credit, Rommath did not _noticeably _react to the attitude, although the air around him did get quite a bit chillier.

"So when should I expect to wake up on Azeroth?" Tanya asked. Her tone was probably a touch snider than she had meant for it to be, but why should that matter if she was just having a crazy dream? She'd probably wake up soon, laughing about the experience and reprimanding herself for chugging a full gallon of Monsters and Rockstars.

"Sooner than you might think," Rommath answered. "Do try not to shriek once you arrive. We won't have much time to ourselves until everyone has been accounted for, and not _all _of us work through migraines gracefully."

With that, both men had vanished, leaving Tanya blissfully alone and suddenly very drowsy. Yawning, she got up, opened her closet and pulled out a few pairs of jeans, some t-shirts, and her favorite oversized high school sweater. She tossed all of these on her bed, then lay down next to them and stared up at the ceiling with a sleepy grin. She had just enough time to wonder why her hands were still so _cold_ before she dozed off.

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, there we are, folks! Chapter one of OFUA is finally up! Thankies to everyone who beta-read this for me, offered ideas and moral support, and laughed at my fanbrats to let me know I was writing them accurately (although, considering one's essentially me five or six years ago... well, we won't get into that.)**

**The year's almost underway (and yes, it shall be a full year for my poor students to endure, because I don't like to rush things – No Child Left Behind gave me a bit of a chip on my shoulder about that, because SO MANY TESTS IN SUCH A SHORT TIME PERIOD GAH), and what a year it's going to be, with... well, I'll let you find out as you go. Hee.**

**I've already got several applicants for OFUA, but I'm still taking applications! I can't promise every character will show up in every chapter, but I'll do my best to give everyone their fifteen-ish minutes of fame. Below is the application form; be as crazy as you'd like, and don't worry about running it past any beta-readers or spellcheckers. Just try not to go overboard, because SC and I have to process all of these application forms before anyone is admitted! (And to those who are wondering why we're waiting until next semester to offer archeology, it's because we wanted to reflect the profession's in-game level requirement. There's method to our madness... this time!)**

**Have fun, and may the odds be ever in your (fanbrat's) favor!**

– **KittyNoodles**

**P.S. Those of you who apply may want to keep an eye on your inboxes – just because of reasons. -winks-**

**Official Fanfiction University of Azeroth - Application Form:**

**Name:**

**Gender:**

**Race:**

**Hair:**

**Eyes:**

**Skin/Fur:**

**Other distinguishing physical traits (facial hair, tail deformities, notches in ears, etc.):**

**Allegiance: **Alliance / Horde / Burning Legion / Scourge **(Choose ONE)**

**Class: **Hunter / Warrior / Rogue / Druid / Paladin / Priest / Mage / Warlock / Shaman / Death Knight / Monk / Civilian **(Choose ONE)**

**If you are a hunter, which pet do you have and what is its name?**

**Primary Professions: **Skinning / Leatherworking / Alchemy / Herbalism / Mining / Jewelcrafting / Blacksmithing / Enchanting / Engineering / Inscription / Tailoring** (Choose no more than TWO)**

**Secondary Professions: **Cooking / Fishing / First Aid** (Choose up to THREE. Archeology will be offered to all students who pass their first semester)**

**Have you ever written a fanfiction for _World of Warcraft_? **Yes / No

**Have you ever written a canon/canon _Warcraft_ pairing? **Yes / No

**Have you ever written a canon/OC _Warcraft_ pairing? **Yes / No

**Have you ever written a Mary Sue or Marty Stu? **Yes / No / Not Sure

**Favorite 'good' character(s) (Alliance, Horde, Knights of the Ebon Blade, etc.):**

**Favorite 'evil' character(s) (Scourge, Burning Legion, etc.):**

**Favorite 'neutral' character(s) (Red/Green/Blue/Bronze Dragonflights, taunka, etc.):**

**Lust Object(s):**

**By signing this application, I hereby forfeit any right I may otherwise have to my own personal health and safety under the instruction of the staff at the Official Fanfiction University of Azeroth (OFUA), whom I recognize as possessing varying levels of sanity and concern for my well-being. I recognize that while the organizers and a few instructors are generally willing to keep their torture victims as physically well as they can manage, they are by no means obligated to do anything more than resurrect me if I should die, and I will not be able to sue anyone at the Official Fanfiction University of Azeroth for any harm done to me while I am in attendance at the university. Since I am likely a) a horny little fanbrat, or b) a hot-headed, god-moding jerk with an ego the size of a Dragon Aspect, and have not actually read this all the way through, my signature also entitles any instructor at the university to feed me to the minis if, at any time during my studies, I become too annoying to put up with for the remainder of the year.**

**x [Sign Here]**


	2. Enter Organizers

**DISCLAIMER: **...Wait, what? Why should I have one every chapter? DIDN'T YOU READ THE ONE AT THE TOP OF CHAPTER ONE, YOU JERKS?

...Nah, just kidding, you know I love y'all. ON WITH THE STORY.

* * *

Somewhere in an uncharted area of the Stonetalon Mountains sat the Official Fanfiction University of Azeroth. Built to accommodate the Alliance as well as the Horde, the university was something of a mismatched puzzle outside, with the Alliance wing of the school showing a very strong tendency towards human- and dwarfish architecture and the Horde wing tending more towards the architecture favored by the Forsaken – although the Horde side of the school had a significant lack of Halloween-ish décor and much better lighting, possibly due to some meddling by the blood elves in attendance.

Both wings were built in such a way that they each enclosed their own outdoor pavilion, and each pavilion was set up in such a way that the students would (hopefully) have plenty of room to practice the tricks of their chosen trades – as well as an outside area that would not need cleaning-up if a fanbrat managed to accidentally lob off a limb or dismember a fellow classmate.

The two opposing wings and their pavilions were separated by the larger, more unified central wing of the university. Comprised of the indoor classrooms, the offices of both coordinators, living quarters for the neutral residents, the cafeteria, the auditorium, and a very large library, this wing was an odd mix of the styles present in the other two, but due to calmer heads and the threat of having their coffee taken away, the building teams had managed to cooperate with each other relatively well until the project had been completed.

On the inside, the university had a more unified look to it, with stone- and hardwood floors covered with fine (and easily-replaced) rugs and walls that were sturdy and uniform – if uniformly divided along their walls by Horde- and Alliance decorations, creating the sense that every hallway had an invisible line drawn down the center. Paintings, masks, and the occasional stuffed animal head decorated the walls of the bigger walkways, and statues depicting heroes from both factions lined the hallway leading from the front of the university to the big auditorium in the very back of the main building.

Of course, today there was a momentary addition to the main hallway. At the moment, a young human woman made her way through it, hauling under one arm a very large stack of applications and muttering under her breath as she made her way to one of the offices. Her progress was slow and marked with the occasional stop for breath, which indicated the stack of papers she carried was perhaps not as light as it appeared to be.

Well, that, and it was bloody hard to carry so many papers in such a way that none of them slipped free and fluttered to the floor.

Eventually, the bespectacled young woman reached her destination; after coming to a halt and heaving a petulant sigh of relief, she brought one foot back and kicked the closed wooden door as hard as she could manage, then stumbled back and spat an incredibly unladylike word as she regained her balance, losing three papers as she did so.

"SC!" she shouted, effectively shattering any idea of timidity her messy brown hair and prescription glasses might have inspired, "Open the door before I drop these and let you deal with them on your own!"

SC, inside, had been making – er – "edits" to the welcoming letter written by one of the staff, and jumped mightily from his chair when the loud BANG resounded through his office.

Without any need for further information, as the sound of the very pissed off voice was information enough, SC scrambled to the door and threw it open. For whatever reason, his sister was wearing a Brewfest dress and a matching pair of slippers... despite Brewfest being only a little less than a year away.

Without any verbal invitation, the young woman shoved past her brother and made her way to his desk, still muttering under her breath.

"So. The... Brewfest outfit. Explanations are in order, please?" SC asked carefully.

"I've been scouring every auction house and marketplace friendly to humans for outfits," she complained as she dropped the stack of applications unceremoniously down on her brother's desk. "So far I've only found this dress, necrology robes, Darkmoon robes, apprentice's robes, and one of Seryl's old robes – and that last one stinks worse than a wet dog. And these slippers are the only shoes I've been able to find," she added, scuffing the floor with the toe of one slipper. "I'd wear them without the socks, but I'm afraid I'd get blisters if I did." She looked up at SC and asked, "What, you're still in Real World clothes? Warcraft clothes are fun, though! I mean, they've got pants and shirts, it's not all robes and armor and leather harnesses..."

SC looked down at his attire. He was wearing what the Specs and Co. called his "Creator Winter Attire" - it was a white turtleneck over blue jeans and grey boots, with a grey cargo hoodie zipped to the neckline. SC's office was quite chilly, hence the heavier clothing. He had neglected to change into Warcraft garments because he had expressed a slight trepidation at his image in full paladin armor.

SC looked back at Kitty and replied, "What? It's comfy."

"Works for me," Kitty said with a shrug.

SC blinked at the sight of stacks upon stacks of paper now littering both his desk and his floor. Thankfully, past experience with invoicing taught him that, indeed, he was capable of working like a machine when duty called, so he was less worried than perhaps he should have been. Realizing he was still holding the welcome letter, something clicked in his brain.

"So, you're still here. I assume there's another problem to discuss?" SC asked.

"If by 'problem', you mean 'lots and lots of applications', and by 'discuss', you mean 'process'." The young woman grumbled some more and looked around for a chair other than SC's to flop down into. "By the Light, this year's applicants are even worse than last year's."

"I figured as much, Kitty," SC replied, wishing to get to his point, "but I meant this." He waved the letter in her face.

"What's that?" Kitty snagged the letter from him and read it over, frowning as her eyes moved lower and lower down the page. "Oh, he's a dead blood elf," she finally growled, crumpling the paper up and throwing it at SC's head. She sighed, buried her face in her hands, and said, "We'll clear that up with the fanbrats when they get here. And make sure Jaina doesn't get her hands on it, or she'll relocate the entire school to the bottom of the ocean."

SC rubbed his head, wondering why he had received a paper bullet to the temple, and said, "Well, for whatever reason, she seems to enjoy stealing my office out from under my feet when I'm not in it, so I might have a bit of trouble in that regard. I think it'll be safer if I just carry it on me."

SC picked up his suddenly-dwarven blunderbuss and poked the rolled-up note down the barrel, praying he wouldn't forget it was there.

"You forget I have an office, too," Kitty corrected. Then she waved a hand as if to shoo the subject away and said, "Whatever. The majority of the copies he didn't send are probably still with the welcome packages, and those are all locked away in my office, so do whatever you need to keep that one out of sight until the orientation."

"What happens if Jaina happens to find out?" SC asked.

Kitty looked over her glasses at the blurry shape of her brother and said flatly, "We pray."

SC thought of every deity he knew, and made a list of the most important ones. "So—"

"We pray." Kitty sighed again, then grabbed a chair from near the door, dragged it unceremoniously over to the desk, and flopped down, grabbing an application as she said, "Now. We have applications to process. Fanbrats to make miserable."

SC looked at his desk and finally winced as the full weight of his new situation set in.

"Come on, come on," Kitty groused, flapping a hand at him irritably. "Grab about half of these things and start looking them over. I didn't bring 'em all here to do this by myself while you watched!"

With a sigh, SC walked to his bed and produced the pen that had been holding his place in his book, then trudged to his seat at his desk and sat down. "Just please, tell me none of them are trying to sign up as dragon aspects of anything. Light help me if I find anywhere in this, 'dragon aspect of unicorns'."

"Well, I haven't really looked through all of them yet," Kitty admitted, at this point paying more attention to the application she was reading than the conversation she was carrying on. "Although this one apparently thinks dragons are vanity items. Listen to this: 'Favorite good character: Saurfang. Favorite evil character: Saurfang. Favorite neutral character: _Saurfang on a red dragon._' This one won't last five minutes in our Dragonology class..."

"I- I have a troll who is made of nothing but Sue colors!" SC exclaimed. "Pink braids? Blue skin? Yellow eyes? Silvery fu- wait, trolls don't have fur!"

"Oh, that one sounds like Iv'ana," Kitty said with a grin. "If I remember correctly, she's the one who likes to think of herself as a trollish Jigsaw. Her whole form's basically one long list of reasons why our staff should murder her on sight for crimes against their people."

"So, she wants to play a game, huh?" SC fought back a snicker at his only half-intentional Saw joke. "Murder won't be necessary, there's better ways of dealing with her type. A Melt Face/Resurrection combo would do quite nicely, I feel."

"I'm all for doing half of what she's done in her fanfictions, but I'm pretty sure the Red Dragonflight might want a word with us if we did." Kitty sighed and grabbed another application from the desk.

"What's the point of having a punishment system if we can't enact sweet justice with it? I'm sure plenty of our sin'dorei staff members would appreciate the notion," SC sighed.

"I think the point is that we aren't allowed to do anything to the students that might cross over into grimdark territory," Kitty reasoned. "That doesn't mean we can't find _other _ways to torment them, it just means we aren't allowed to... well, I think the nicest thing Iv'ana's ever done to her characters is gut one of them and hang him with his own intestines." She blinked at the application in her hand and threw her head back in raucous laughter.

"What's with you all of a sudden?" SC asked.

"Hee." Kitty grinned again and said, "We have our first-ever female dwarf. Kanza Flameheart – she has 'pumpkin-orange' hair done up in braids down her back, she's an Alliance member (obviously), she likes Thrall, and would like to stab and strangle Garrosh. And what, exactly, is a 'kismesis'? Is that supposed to be fanbrat for 'frenemy'?"

"What- what is th- I don't even-" SC stammered. Even the Specs and Co. made some modicum of sense, contrary to this so-called dwarf girl.

"Oh well, at least I know how to mess with her hair..." Kitty grinned and moved on to the next application.

"Oh, for the love of Aeldra, who I know can not possibly hear me in this realm..." SC pinched the bridge of his nose in pain. "So, we have a freaking HOBBIT in Azeroth."

"No," Kitty said cheerfully. "We have a race-confused gnome."

"Im'ma punt it," SC said immediately, more on instinct. Typically, he played a human paladin in Warcraft when he was able, or a dwarven hunter, but one trip to the Horde as a blood elf rogue taught him to see all gnomes as footballs. It was shameful to admit, as well as hilarious to watch when others actually tried to drop kick a gnome.

"Poor little gnomish fanbrats," Kitty giggled.

They processed the next few applications quietly, before SC burst out laughing at the one he picked up next.

"I think we have a canon-confused fanbrat," SC choked out. "He's apparently a Space Marine of the Imperium of Man, Ultramarines Chapter, and enjoys killing xenos, heretics, and... and screw it, he'll be a human warrior with mining. I don't even care! I can't take this one seriously!" SC continued chuckling in an unhinged manner while Kitty reached over and patted his shoulder soothingly.

"Oh, here we have a gender confused blood elf pretty boy," Kitty said, seeming to brighten despite the fact that this was still a fanbrat. "He has unusually short eyebrows, seems to think Illidan Stormrage is a good character – trust me, honey, he hasn't been good since before he was banished to Outland – and lists his lust objects as 'Everything that's taller than him'." She looked up with an entirely unhealthy grin and said, "Oh, and he's a mage. Rommath will enjoy having this one around, don't you think?"

"What I think," SC said, "is that this kid should really have read up on what he was signing up for before he filled out his application form. Here, take a look at this," SC said, pushing the form over to Kitty.

"Oops, this one might have filed a fanfiction under the wrong category." Kitty thought for a moment, then shrugged and passed the form back to SC. "Well, the learning experience won't hurt them... figuratively speaking. Heck, maybe they'll wind up with a new fandom for it. Although I wonder why they wrote 'Polynesian' for their skin color...?"

"I couldn't tell you. Although it seems like saying you have Roman-colored eyes, doesn't it?" SC replied.

"Er... yeah," Kitty said, moving on to the next application. "Oh here we go, another violent tauren."

"That's possible?" SC asked. Then, thinking for a moment about the Grimtotems, he added, "Well, I grant you it's possible, but very uncommon."

"Pendos, huh?" Kitty rolled her eyes. "With 'electric-blue' eyes, black fur, black horns, and the inability to correctly spell the name of his chosen race. Oh, and his horns 'swepe' forward so he can gouge his enemies." Kitty looked up and commented, "I'm assuming he doesn't realize the horns won't 'swepe' forward when he actually lowers his head to do any goring, considering most other races are shorter than the average tauren bull." She continued reading, then grinned and said sheepishly, "Oh, whoops, this is the same guy who's obsessed with Saurfang. My bad."

"What do you expect? We've been doing this for hours, I'm about to up and pass out on the desk," SC said. From one of his drawers, he protruded what he swore was a soda a moment ago, but which was now a brew of some sort. "Frickin' naturalization. All my items have been Warcraft'd."

"Funny, that doesn't seem to happen with the stuff the rest of the staff swipe from the Real World," Kitty commented, looking over one of the last applications yet to be processed.

"Because they smuggled the stuff across. I brought mine in with permission, and look what happens!" SC shook his head and took a sip of the brew (which was very bubbly, leading SC to guess that it was just the soda in a mug), and then promptly spit it across the desk when he caught sight of the next form.

"Well, it smells like soda," Kitty commented as she swiped her last few applications out of the way and moved to sit in a corner of the room, away from the soda mess.

"Okay, sorry about the spray-and-pray there, but you gotta' get a load of this," SC said. "We have a night elf death knight, with icy blue eyes – I assume they're icy blue like limpid tears – who doesn't seem to realize that even if she is Alliance, she's still Ebon Blade at the same time, so she's basically saying that she favors her allegiance over her allegiance."

"That is not spit-worthy," Kitty said with an imperious glare. "She just sounds a little silly, that's all. A year with us should clear all that up."

"I can't help it, I'm really tired right now. Also, who in the Twisting Nether is Tyriade?" SC asked.

"Uh..." Kitty looked up again with a confused frown. "To my knowledge there's no one here with that name. How's it spelled?"

"It's spelled Tyriade," SC said with a somewhat tired giggle. A purple gel pen sailed through the air and smacked him squarely between the eyes, prompting him to flinch. "Uh, it's spelled T-Y-R-I-A-D-E," he corrected.

"That sounds like... that's probably a misspelling of Tyrande," Kitty worked out slowly. "And gimme back my pen." The pen came flying back, and Kitty only barely managed to catch it before it hit her in the face. "This one right here... This one's silly. Asebe Throatpiercer, who is a speshul blue-eyed orc woman who is somehow 'babelicious'. She has thick, wavy, burgandy-colored hair..." She blinked, then flushed a bit as she said, "Uh, she wrote a threesome between Lor'themar, Halduron, and Rommath – and she repeatedly calls Rommath 'old Rommath'." Still blushing, she looked up and said, "We should keep Miss Throatpiercer away from those three. And from Jaina, who she slashed with Aegwynn, of all people. And Liadrin, who she slashed with herself."

"I'll... I'll inform the headmaster that we might need extra security precautions, shall I?" SC said with a nervous chuckle. Then, looking down, he saw two forms in front of him that he hadn't touched yet.

And he flinched at both.

"Right. So. I'm not much of an oracle, but Andrew I see dying within two weeks. Oh man, if Lor'themar ever finds the kid... And no, by nature, humans are typically not Horde. Besides, I don't think the Horde would accept them anyhow – they've already made too big an, uh, 'impression' with the orcs and the blood elves. And Light save me, Arthas is nothing like Darth Vader. Gods numerous, named and nameless, this kid is going to have a lot of enemies." SC produced a notebook from his hoodie's left breast pocket and scribbled, 'Note to self: practice shield spells. Practice them like crazy.'

"Hee, here's one who wants to show up as a human but thought to make it very clear that she plays blood elves exclusively." Kitty gave a very unfriendly-sounding laugh. "And apparently it's another Scourge fangirl..." She looked up with a frown and asked, "What do people not understand about _damned to an eternity of_ _soullessness_? And if they do understand that part, why do they still lust after the undead so... rabidly?"

"Anyone's guess," SC said. He shrugged and then moved on to the other form."Oh geez, I can't even begin to comprehend this one. So, we have a human who can't decide whether or not she has skin or fur, is a mage but is trying to have a hunter-class pet – one which I don't even think can be tamed anyhow – and seems to have created our newest mini: Scrouge."

At this moment, a Wrath Cadet, looking rather undead, popped into existence at SC's feet. And proceeded to try and attack his knees.

"Shoo, stop that," SC said idly, tapping the Wrath Cadet with his toe. Scrouge's arm popped off by accident, and he proceeded to shake his only remaining fist at SC angrily.

"Whoops. Anyhow, so she's a fan of the Scourge... but has 'none' listed in her favorite evil category. Oooooo-kay. Whatever." SC processed the two forms, then leaned down to help Scrouge put his arm back on.

"Wait, why in the Nether are the Scourge and Burning Legion even available as factions?" Kitty demanded. "Who the hell wrote these up?"

SC rolled his eyes. He had a few ideas, and one was an oversized, giant sword-wielding Lich King. But he didn't say so out loud – they already had several potential crises without confronting Arthas in person. And besides, he wasn't even at the school, meaning it was probably a blood elf who wrote the forms anyhow.

"Oh my god..." Kitty groaned, burying her face in her hands again for a moment. Then she snapped back to attention, forced her face into a smile that was really more of a snarl, and said, "Well, since I didn't catch that little... problem until just now, let's go back through these stinkin' forms and resort the ones who actually picked Scourge or Burning Legion. Just sort 'em by race; humans, worgen, night elves, dwarves, gnomes, and draenei go to the Alliance; blood elves, orcs, Forsaken, trolls, goblins, and tauren go to the Horde."

"What about the Panderens?" SC asked. "Also: Boo, none of these guys signed up as worgens. I would've at least appreciated the effort."

"Pand-A-ren," Kitty corrected, "And that's the plural and singular form, so don't add an 'S' to it. I dunno... if they signed up as Scourge, toss 'em in the Alliance, and if they tried for Burning Legion, toss 'em in the Horde. And we had worgen sign-ups; they were just generically stupid and speshul."

"Okay, so let me rephrase that: I would have appreciated a REALISTIC effort," SC groaned. "Even my OC Adrin was a hideous monster of an Alpha Werewolf, and you KNOW I hate uglifying my characters if I don't have to."

Kitty rolled her eyes and went back through the giant stack of applications for the second time that day. She could only pray that this was the most excitement she would see today, because otherwise—

From beyond the closed office door, there came the sounds of a sudden and brutal fight, laced with taunts and vulgarities and none too few of the screams of a few noncombatant residents of the school.

—it was going to be a very long day.

With a sigh, Kitty shoved her half of the papers away and stalked outside, calling over her shoulder, "Keep working on those; I'll go attempt to break up Varian and Garrosh. Again." Her hands were already glowing with the makings of a fire spell as she slammed the door shut behind her.

SC, in case the fight burst through to his office, pulled out his own spellbook – he was less of a mage than Kitty, but still practiced basic spells – and for the sake of preparedness, removed the hidden letter from his gun's barrel and packed it with ammo as tight as he could. He then went back to processing, completely ignoring the battle shrieks his sister set up as she joined the fray and the even louder squeals of pain as she was promptly swatted aside by the two ever-feuding faction leaders.

Long day? This looked like it was fixing to be a long school year...

* * *

**Kitty's Note: There we go, chapter two is complete! It's about two thousand words shorter than chapter one, unfortunately, but I still like how it came out! Next chapter will be the orientation process itself, which means those who don't know what's in the 'welcome' letter will finally learn what's so terrible about it! Yay for drawing things out!**

**Also, in chapter one, I accidentally described Rommath as having short, spiky hair. I was basing his description off the 3D model on WoWWiki, which is TERRIBLY OUTDATED, because dear old Rommath has long hair. Gorgeously long. That little oops has been fixed; thankies to wanda von dunayev for pointing it out – you're a doll! (And everyone else should go read her stuff. Seriously. DO EET.)**

**And yes, I be a mage. Because fireballs. Glorious fireballs. (Clearly I am not a _good _mage, nor am I a good fistfighter. Oh well, the bruises make me look tough...)**

**Oh, and applications are still open for those who want to apply and didn't get the chance before we updated! You'll even still get the surprise I mentioned in chapter one! Yay!**

**SC's Note: You know, it's very difficult for me to not give ridiculous amounts of shout-outs to the stuff I write. So incredibly hard. Of course, it's also putting me in a great deal of pain to have to restrain myself and not make my character (SC) his canonically overpowered self.**

**That does not mean I won't keep his on-the-verge-of-murderous-laughing-insanity attitude, though.**

**I also love how I'm apparently the only person who is suffering the effects of item naturalization, and it's all effecting me negatively. My blunderbuss is canonically a rifle, the mug of ale was of course a soda, my magic book started out as a book CALLED Magyck (Angie Sage, for those wondering), and my trademark glasses have gone conveniently missing. As in, I haven't mentioned that I'm still wearing them yet, because I'm trying to think of a way that they got naturalized by Azeroth as well.**

**See? I don't even let up on my own damn author insert!**


End file.
